Take a Picture
by Donner Dumott Schunard
Summary: How Mark got into taking pictures. For speedrent on LJ.


A little fic done for speedrent. I just love that dorky little Marky!

**Disclaimer:** Don't own.

**Take a Picture**

**By Donna**

_"So what starts someone like you into film?" Angel asks me one day, randomly. I look up, a little shocked someone is actually talking to me. Not that many do, you know._

_I look around the loft. Everyone is suddenly curious because she opened her mouth. I shrug. "I dunno."_

_"C'mon, Mark, there has to be a reason," Collins says, smiling at his girl. Angel smiles back, lifting up her chin like she's a good dog. Okay. That was mean. I don't mean that._

_"Now I'm curious," Roger says, his head coming out of his little bubble, "You've been doing it as long as I've known you."_

_"Well," I said, shifting the camera in my lap, "I didn't always do film... I had this camera, see..."_

I was eight at the time. I was roaming around my house, looking for something to do. It was during the holiday break and all my friends for the most part were going to family's houses and such.

No one is ever out to play for the poor Jewish kid on Christmas.

I sighed, dejected. I hated being the oddball out.

I looked at a closet in the main hall. I never really looked into it. My mom and dad used it, but I would be damned if I knew what it was for. I walked up to the door and flung it open, praying my mom wouldn't hear. It moaned open and I looked around in it. Coats, boxes, and board games. I smiled. Treasure!

I saw a big box at the top that said "photography." I licked my lips. It was a big word that I heard a few times. It had to be good.

So with a one-tracked mind I stacked up the board games and stood on top of them, praying that they wouldn't cave in. I couldn't reach it. I didn't give up. I took one of the coats and unhooked it. It fell on the ground and I took the hanger. I hooked the hanger onto the box, which was the size of a construction boot box and nudged it. It began to slip and I caught it. It was probably one of the few times in my life I caught something. Thank God.

I jumped off the boxes, clutching my prize. I grinned triumphantly. I cleaned up my mess and closed the door, humming all the way to my room.

I opened the box and found a camera. I stared at it like it was going to bite. My dad had one that looked a little different from it, but I understood how to use it. I pulled it out of the box and held it in my hands. It was huge for me at the time. I gasped. I looked to see if it had film and it did. It was a new roll. I smiled.

I started to run around the house, taking pictures of anything and everything. Of the clock, of the chair, of the TV (which I learned later, never works). It was so fun. So liberating. I was catching moments in time that I would never go back to.

My mom caught me and was about to yell at me, but she, instead, decided to maybe use it to my advantage. "Marky! What are you doing with that?"

I stopped my revelry and said, "I'm... takin' pictures."

She sighed. "Well, honey, are you sure you're doing it right?"

I took a picture directly in her face, flash on. When she finally recovered from the flash, she said, "Marky! You're not doing it right!"

So she held the camera in my hands and she stood me at the doorway. She opened the door, the fridge air hitting us like a ton of bricks. This was probably one of the only times she ever let me be at the door without a coat. She pointed to the tree by us, which was covered in snow. She smiled. "Look at it, Mark."

I stared at the tree. "It's just a tree."

"Just a tree!" she exclaimed, "It's more than that!"

I looked harder.

"Try and see its beauty," she said, "See the branches and see the way it's stretched out. Take a picture with it in it's beauty. Take it because it's beautiful."

I focused and clicked.

She grinned. "See? Don't you feel it?"

I looked at her for a moment and nodded. "Y-yeah! I do, Mommy!"

So I started to take pictures of everything following that. Trying to catch everything's beauty. Trying to find something pretty in everything. When I turned thirteen, my mom gave me another box.

"Open it," she demanded.

I pulled at the top and stared at it blankly. "It's a..."

"Video camera," she said, "I know. It's old. Your father and I had it when we first got married. He didn't want to throw it out. Now I know why."

"So..." I started.

"I know you love doing this," she said, "Now you will not only have pictures, but film. You'll have moving images and more time to capture. Won't it be great to look back on it with your friends when you're old like me?"

I laughed and nodded. "Yeah! Sure!"

_"...and the rest," I said, my hands clasped together, "...is history, I guess."_

_Mimi and Angel applauded emphatically. "Aw!"_

_The everyone else rolled their eyes. "Mama's boy."_

_"No!" Mimi squealed, "It was really sweet. Really sweet, Mark."_

_I nodded. "Thanks, Mimi. I know not many people think it's cool... but I don't care."_

_"Amen!" Angel yelled, raising her fist._

_I covered my face. Yeah. She should know_.

**END**

I tried... I really did! I hope you liked it.


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